


double trouble couple (we still have too many problems)

by shirosayas (landfill)



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Cadets, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landfill/pseuds/shirosayas
Summary: in which seongwoo learns that the weight of a uniform is easier to bear with someone like minhyun.or alternatively:"you two are a terrible buddy-cop duo," jaehwan snorts, shaking his chopsticks at them disapprovingly. "seriously. eveniwouldn't pay to see this mess at the movies."





	double trouble couple (we still have too many problems)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucitae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/gifts).



> what is this you ask? it's the midnight runners AU that nobody asked for. tbh i planned this back when i first watched the movie but i was like "lmao this is too much work nvm". so how did this still end up happening you ask? because fucking ymc think they can get away with trashing onghwang and i won't stand for it. this ship is already being singlehandedly buried by ong himself SO I. WON'T. STAND. FOR IT. anger after all, is always a great source of motivation.
> 
> anyways, apologies to both those who have, and haven't watched the movie. bc this fic is literally 88% copy and pasted with scenes from the movie ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ albeit i definitely tried my best to make it even gayer because even if ong has the hetero agenda, my homo agenda will never cease. on that note, u can also blame my [senpai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae) for encouraging this to happen, because really, who else would encourage this kind of terribleness to fester in the fandom. i would apologise but ymc isn't going to apologise for ripping my heart out so i won't either. im sewing it back in myself.

“All students will now move to the union hall for their haircuts. Say your goodbyes to your family and friends promptly.”

 

 

 

The noise in the assembly hall starts to diffuse once more. Voices of parents, of siblings, friends and lover alike gather in a collective cacophony, stirred from a mixture of happiness, nervousness, concern and pride all the same.

 

“Remember to take care of yourself,” a mother in the crowd says. “Don’t skip your meals, and dress warmly at night. The weather isn’t looking so good lately so don’t stay outside longer than you have to,” she nags, two palms holding her son’s face possessively even as the boy stares back lovingly at her. “Don’t get sick okay? If they’re too hard on you, you can run back home to me anytime.”

 

“Eomma, he’ll be _fine_ ,” the girl next to her speaks up, amused at the overbearing amount of fawning over her brother but if she doesn’t save him now then they’d probably never leave this spot. “How is he suppose to become a man if you keep babying him like this.”

 

The boy nods in agreement, catching the hands on his cheeks and holds it warmly in his own as he smiles back at her. “Noona is right. I’ll be fine, really.” His eyes curve further into crescents when the grip on his hands tighten like it has no intention to let go. A mother’s affection is relentless but he loves her all the same. “I’ll take good care of myself eomma, so you should too. I’ll be home for Chuseok, I promise.”

 

His mother’s eyes grow teary, but the boy maintains his smile in fear of his own going glassy. His sister hides a sniffle from the side and it’s hard for them both to maintain their composure when his mother pulls him into another embrace. It’s a little suffocating, a little constricting, but it’s warmth and love and everything his mother is and he already misses it even when she’s standing right here.

 

“My baby,” his mother coos one last time when they finally separate, one hand returning to caress his cheek. “I love you Minhyun-ah.”

 

“I love you too eomma,” Minhyun sniffs, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek. His sister groans at the action, murmuring something about spoiled, coddled sons and he laughs, mouth wide.

 

“What’s wrong? Do you want a kiss too noona?” He says, eyes closing as he puckers his lips towards her face and earns a light smack to the mouth instead. Minhyun smiles smugly when their mother hits Sujin in return and scolds his sister for hitting her baby son.

 

 

 

From afar, another father fondly watches the scene unfold and turns back to his own son, whose eyes are locked to his own phone. Too closed off in his own world to care about his surroundings.

 

“Who are you texting?” the father asks.

 

“Eomma,” his son replies, curt. The side of his lips curve happily at a new message and his father briefly wonders when would he also be able to become the recipient of that smile. Meanwhile, all around them are sons and daughters bidding farewell to their families, goodbyes in the forms of hugs and firm pats on shoulders.

 

“Okay, I’ll leave now,” the son says suddenly, head dipping in a slight bow. “Bye appa.”

 

“Seongwoo-yah wait!” his father calls, hesitantly stepping closer. In an act that Seongwoo never sees coming, the boy stands frozen in place when he’s pulled into a side hug, blinking wildly in surprise as his father awkwardly pats his back.

 

“I just wanted to say that I’m…” his father pauses, eyes flashing with pride when he looks at Seongwoo, “I’m proud of you.”

 

Seongwoo looks on impassively, still a little in shock at both the sudden compliment and attempt at physical affection. The warm look on his father’s face is so foreign that he doesn’t know what to think. Or say. But he knows it’s only courtesy that he should respond.

 

“Uh,” Seongwoo swallows thickly and pushes his glasses up pointlessly out of nervous habit. “You should zip up your jacket before you leave appa, it’s cold outside.”

 

Seongwoo’s father nods, and watches his son quickly leave, perhaps with a semblance of a smile. It’s not much, but it’s enough for him to sigh in contentment. Maybe this was late but it’s still a start.

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

“My father was an alumnus here,” one of the kids in Seongwoo’s room says. He’d been droning on and on about his dad for the past 10 minutes that Seongwoo can’t even remember if he’d introduced himself before.

 

“He taught me about the value of public order and justice since I was young,” daddy-boy continues proudly, looking at every one of the other three boys in the room individually. “So that’s why I’m here. I want to be a police officer _just_ like him.”

 

Seongwoo yawns, clearly the only one that’s bored out of his mind with all the father-worship stories going around. He doesn’t think much of his nonchalance until all of their eyes land on him, probably in a belated realisation that he’s the only one who hasn’t divulge anything personal yet. This isn’t how Seongwoo wanted to be noticed though.

 

“How about you?” the boy sitting next to him, Youngmin or something, ask. “What brings you here?”

 

“I…” Seongwoo drones, unable to come up with a reply. “Uh…”

 

“What? You don’t know why you came here?” daddy-boy gasps, evidently shocked by Seongwoo’s lack of resolution.

 

Another boy whose name Seongwoo can’t remember narrows his eyes. “Did you join the police academy for the shits and giggles then?”

 

Something about that statement greatly miffs Seongwoo, but before he could retaliate in defence, an alarm blares loudly. Not quite deafening but annoyingly loud enough, echoing all the way from the hallway to the field outside.

 

 

 

“Attention, please. All students must _immediately_ report to the center field in your new uniforms within 3 minutes,” the speaker in their room announces. “Latecomers will be severely punished.”

 

 

 

“Wait what?” Seongwoo blinks dumbly, and watches as all of his roommates scramble to change their clothes, shirts flying across the room and limbs ungracefully striding about.

 

“1 minutes and 30 seconds left,” the speaker announces again. Seongwoo knows for a fact that it’s a blatant lie but the countdown finally urges him to move nevertheless, stripping off his own clothes in a flurry as he tries to catch up to his peers rushing out of the doorway.

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

“85! 86!”

 

A whistle blows to signify them to stop. Again. They’d been running through this jumping drill for the past hour and a half and Seongwoo honestly feel like his legs are going to break. He’d never felt how truly unfit he was until now, with all of his limbs burning with a throbbing ache. Is it possible for your bones to melt from the inside?

 

“What’s wrong? Can’t walk as a team?” the drill instructor yells at them for the umpteenth time. “Start again from 1-100!”

 

Nobody dares to make another groan of protest out of fear after the first time. Seongwoo didn’t know it was possible to see hell reincarnated in another woman other than his mother.

 

“This is insane,” he mutters under his breath, but he’s too tired to complain any further when the whistle blows again.

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

When they all went to bed that night, Seongwoo’s the first to knock out on his own bunk without a word.

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

Waking up at six in the morning for a run isn’t so bad, Seongwoo thinks. Sure his legs still hurt like hell from yesterday and his ears are still ringing a little from the classic army alarm blaring through the speaker earlier today. But they’re promised with breakfast so Seongwoo doesn’t mind the pain when he finally gets to wrestle a huge pile of rice on his tray. Any day can be a great day if he starts with a hearty breakfast.

 

“Ooh sausages,” Seongwoo licks his lips, staring expectantly at the tongs moving towards his tray. The smile on his face falters when he sees only two meager pieces of sausages sitting in the small steel compartment. “H-Hold on. Can’t I get one more sausage?”

 

“Portions are set so everyone can receive an equal share,” the canteen staff informs him monotonically, almost like it’s a line he’d rehearsed much too frequently. “Move along.”

 

“But the rice to sausage ratio isn’t balanced!” Seongwoo whines, trying to search for some semblance of sympathy within the dead eyes of the man staring back at him. “I just need one more. Please? Please?”

 

“You there, the student at the front. Stop holding up the line and sit down.”

 

Seongwoo pouts, trudging away in disappointment as he tries to convince his stomach to come to term with the fact that it’ll just have to deal with a large, lonely portion of rice. He’s already starting to lose motivation for the rest of this day, let alone this week. But something catches his attention from the corner of his eyes on the table he just sat on, and he turns his head to find a tray on the other side of the table, each compartment almost immaculately spotless down to the last grain of rice, spare for two beautiful, golden brown sausages.

 

“Hey,” Seongwoo gestures at its owner. “Aren’t you going to eat your sausages?”

 

The other boy tilts his head, perplexed at the question. “Why would I do that?”

 

Seongwoo’s eyebrows draw together in equal confusion. “Why _wouldn’t_ you do that?”

 

“Because processed meat like sausages has carcinogens like sodium glutamate and sodium nitrate,” The boy explains casually, as if it’s meant to be common knowledge. “Who in their right mind would willingly eat carcinogens?”

 

“So...” Seongwoo starts, not even bothered to pretend like he understood anything the boy was talking about nor the fact that he’s still blatantly eyeing the other’s food, licking his lips in anticipation. “If you’re not eating it, can I have them?”

 

Sausage boy bats his eyes in disbelief. “...Did you even hear what I just said? Why would you willingly eat carcino—”

 

“Can I? Please?” Seongwoo looks at him pleadingly, hands clasped around his own spoon with an audible whimper. How is he suppose to explain that his portions are all out of whack? But if he manages to snag those sausages then balance to his breakfast (and his sanity) will be gratefully restored. The other boy is still eyeing him cautiously though, so Seongwoo doesn’t break eye contact, puffing his lips further into a pout.

 

“Okay,” Sausage boy eventually sighs, relenting. “Be my guest.”

 

“Awesome!” Seongwoo silently throws a celebratory fist pump, and immediately dives for the other boy’s portion. “Thanks dude. You’re a lifesaver!”

 

Sausage boy frowns. “Letting you eat poison actually makes me the complete opposite of that, but you do you I guess.”

 

“Hahah you’re funny,” Seongwoo grins after swallowing down a mouthful of rice and extends a hand towards the other boy. “I’m Ong Seongwoo. What’s your name?”

 

“Hwang Minhyun,” Sausage boy replies, leaving Seongwoo’s hand hanging in the air in favour of taking his own empty tray away. “Since I’m done I’ll be leaving first, so enjoy your sausages, Hong Seongwoo.”

 

“Actually, it’s pronounced Ong…” Seongwoo tries to correct him, voice trailing quieter as the boy leaves without his turning back to acknowledge Seongwoo at all. But Seongwoo can’t muster the anger to care when his rice is now happily split between four pieces of sausages.

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

Seongwoo would start calling it a routine, but they don’t always see each other in the cafeteria. When they do though, Minhyun reluctantly relinquishes his sausages every single time, and Seongwoo starts the day with a happy stomach while watching a tall slender back retreat to the exit. He doesn’t care if Minhyun comes off as an asshole because at least he’s a generous asshole.

 

The only thing that irks him though is how the guy never seems to pronounce his name right.

 

“My name isn’t Gong Seongwoo! It’s _Ong_ Seongwoo!!!!!” he yells loudly, much to the chagrin of those sitting near him. “ONG!!!”

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

The training camp is supposed to last two weeks, so they’re not too far off from completion. What has Seongwoo concerned is how they already have a few dropouts: some had given up out of pure exhaustion and some had to leave due to injuries sustained during the camp (a dude named Taemin dislocated his shoulders during a rope climbing exercise. Yikes.). He’s only amongst the lucky many that got away with just bruises and scrapes here and there, but who knows what can happen?

 

“...You’ll choose from Taekwondo, Judo, Aikido and Kendo to train for the next 4 years,” their instructor continues explaining. Seongwoo’s grateful he zoned back in just in time to catch the important parts. “Think about your choices carefully, got it?”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

Seongwoo doesn’t quite know what compelled him to put down Judo as his preference. If he had to pick a reason it’d be because none of his roommates did. It’s not that he personally have anything against them, he just doesn’t want to be stuck with the same people for the next 4 years. You know, preferably.

 

(Especially Jaehwan. Father-worship is one thing, but he’s a really fucking messy roommate.)

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

“Today is the final round of training,” their instructor announces, and Seongwoo doesn’t think he’d ever been happier to finish something other than his meals. “So per tradition, we’ll be doing the Buphwa Mountain race.”

 

Seongwoo turns his head to survey the trip. They’ve been running around that mountain these two weeks and honestly, it doesn’t seem that bad for something that’s supposed to mark the end of their suffering.

 

“Those that can run to the top of the mountain and back within one hour will immediately be granted entry into the University.” A menacing smirk on their instructor’s face appears as she continues. “Those that can’t, however, will immediately be denied due to physical incompetence.”

 

Seongwoo’s eyes widen in shock, amongst a few others. They’ve been through hell and back these two weeks and now they’re supposed to accept that their fate rests on a single race?

 

“Now that you know what’s at stake,” their instructor smiles, “run with all your might. Got it?”

 

“Yes ma’am!” they shout in unison, and gradually gathers around the starting line.

 

“Hey Seongwoo,” a voice appears behind him. He’s relieved when he turns around and sees Youngmin smiling despite their mutual nervousness. “Good luck.”

 

“You too,” Seongwoo smiles back, and then the whistle blows.

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

Steady breathing is the key to maintaining your stamina while running, Minhyun thinks. He just need to look forward, breathe evenly, watch his own steps—

 

“OH!” Minhyun exclaims, stepping on a rock that he didn’t see and falls knees first into the ground.

 

 _It’s okay_ , he thinks. _There’s no need to panic, I’m still ahead of everyone else_. So he tries to steady his feet and get back up, but a sharp pain shoots through his leg when he attempts to do so. And that’s when the horrifying realisation settles in:

 

“I sprained my ankle,” Minhyun whispers, silently cursing when his next attempt to lift his knees ends with another jolt of pain on the ground. This can’t be happening but it is. This shouldn’t be happening but _it_ is. The panic is finally seeping into Minhyun’s heart until he hears a gallop of footsteps passing by him and he looks up at the newcomer.

 

“Could you help me? Please!” Minhyun pleads, wincing when he shifted his leg too quickly.

 

The other boy turns back to look at him, and then at the goal that was so close. He looks absolutely torn but somehow Minhyun knew the choice he’d make before he even said it.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

The boy runs ahead and Minhyun is left on the ground, defeated.

 

“Whoa! Fancy seeing you here,” a familiar voice calls, and Minhyun turns around to face an even more familiar smile. “Taking a break or something?”

 

“Help me!” Minhyun immediately outstretches his hand at the boy. “I sprained my ankle and I can’t get up.”

 

“Damn,” Seongwoo says, eyeing him sympathetically. Someone else runs past them in that moment and Seongwoo clenches his fists. “Sorry dude, I really gotta get into this University.”

 

“Me too!” Minhyun cries, looking down at the ground, voice wavering almost hopelessly. “Me too.”

 

“God I feel like a horrible person,” Seongwoo sighs at this sight.

 

“You should,” Minhyun spits, looking back up at the boy with renewed fiery in his eyes. “You owe me. I gave you my sausages!”

 

Seongwoo chokes, coughing. “What?! But you were the one that wasn’t going to eat them!”

 

“I still gave them to you!” Minhyun yells, anger rising out of nowhere.

 

“Why are you shouting at me?!” Seongwoo yells back defensively. More and more people are starting to run past them and the urgency returns to Minhyun’s eyes.

 

“Please,” Minhyun begs once more. “I really need to get into this school.”

 

Seongwoo doesn’t know if it’s the sausages tugging at his conscience or the look of anguish on Minhyun’s face as if he’s already prepared to accept the fact that Seongwoo might turn him down and he’ll be ignored and left alone by everyone else. Either way, Seongwoo has always been a rebel at heart.

 

“C’mon,” Seongwoo says, crouching down to take Minhyun’s arm around his shoulder, while the boy stares at him in shock. “You can thank me later when we both get accepted.”

 

Minhyun nods, and tries to steady himself with the boy’s help. He winces when Seongwoo tries to pull him up, the pain intensifying with every inch of movement. Still, he tries to bear it but despite his best efforts, his legs eventually give in and he falls forward, pulling Seongwoo down with him.

 

“Ugh, not cool man. Not cool,” Seongwoo grunts, pushing himself back up, blinking in confusion at his blurry surroundings. “Hold on, where are my glasses?”

 

Minhyun turns to look for it, and he finds them flung a little away from their position. “Over there.”

 

But before Seongwoo can even ask for directions to retrieve his glasses, another person runs past them, footsteps accompanying by a sudden unpleasant crunch and a half-hearted yelp of apology.

 

“Please don’t tell me that sound is what I think it is,” Seongwoo mumbles, horrified.

 

“I don’t suppose you brought spares?” Minhyun asks, trying not to snicker at the look of despair on Seongwoo’s face. It's not that Minhyun finds amusement in his misfortune (okay, maybe a little), but the guy truly has a flair for overly dramatic reactions.

 

“It’s over,” Seongwoo says, head hung low despite his previous fighting spirit. “I’m blind and you can’t walk, and everyone here are assholes that won’t give me sausages and probably won’t pay for my glasses either.”

 

Minhyun can’t hold it back anymore and finally laughs, short but jubilant, and Seongwoo turns his head towards the direction of the voice, staring in disbelief. “You’re laughing?”

 

“Cause you’re so weird,” Minhyun says, and Seongwoo thinks it’s a compliment coming from that voice.

 

“Sure, I’m the weird one. This is coming from the guy that lists out ingredient used in sausages.” Seongwoo quips back, but there’s a smile returning to his face as well.

 

Minhyun rolls his eyes. “Let’s not start this conversation right now, we still have a race to finish.”

 

“How?” Seongwoo frowns. “In case you need me to reiterate. I can’t see, and you can’t walk. How are we both getting back in one piece, let alone finish this race?”

 

Minhyun shakes his head in disagreement, eyes lighting up like the lightbulb inside his brain. “I have an idea.”

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

“Let it be known on record, that I _hate_ this idea,” Seongwoo whines, probably for the fifth time within half an hour. They’re finally making tracks to return back down from the mountain, and sure Seongwoo’s role is physically taxing alone but Minhyun is equally exhausted from his incessant whining.

 

“You’ll be my legs and I’ll be your eyes. It’s just simple mutualism, so stop complaining,” Minhyun sighs, tightening his arm around Seongwoo’s shoulders. “Keep walking straight, and watch out for the rock on your right.”

 

“Easy for you to say,” Seongwoo huffs, stopping once more to steady his arms that are holding up Minhyun’s legs. “You’re the one getting the royal treatment, riding on my back.”

 

“Ah yes,” Minhyun smiles, and from his tone alone Seongwoo can tell it’s as fake as how he claims processed meat really are. “You got me. I _definitely_ wanted to break my own legs so I can climb on your nice, broad back.”

 

Seongwoo knows it’s sarcasm. Knows that every word is a retaliating jab from Minhyun for his own whining. But there’s still a flood of heat rushing to his cheeks at the second half of Minhyun’s statement. Mind you, he doesn’t care what Minhyun thinks, but it’s nice to be somewhat appreciated for the effort that he’d made these past two weeks. Even if that wasn’t Minhyun’s intention.

 

Then he thinks about how Minhyun’s frame wraps around his own, probably large enough to spoon someone like Seongwoo in their sleep, and he’s speaking without thinking again. “Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.”

 

“That’s not— I didn’t—” Minhyun fumbles, and Seongwoo takes this as a win if Minhyun is now the flustered one. “Just shut up and move, you idiot.”

 

“Yes sir,” Seongwoo grins, suddenly bolstered with the energy to pick up his pace.

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

By the time they reached the foot of the mountain and caught sight of everyone else waiting for them, the sun has already started to set. Seongwoo still can’t really see all too well, but judging by the audible sound of Minhyun gulping in fear, he guesses that their instructor definitely isn’t too impressed with their performance. They’ve long past the set hour mark after all.

 

“Hurry up!” she yells at them, and Seongwoo suddenly finds the energy to push himself for a final spurt.

 

Minhyun slowly clambers off his back when Seongwoo finally halts in front of the instructor, he’s momentary glad that the pain in his legs has subsided enough for him to stand while being supported by Seongwoo. But the instructor’s face seems to harden in dissatisfaction at the sight.

 

“What happened?” she asks, despite the obvious, and it’s clearly directed at Seongwoo.

 

Seongwoo however, is frozen in place, mouth opening and closing like fish suffocating on land as he tries to calm his breathing. The pitiful sight makes Minhyun sigh, and he clears his throat to prepare to yell as loud as he can. “I fell down while running and sprained my ankle!” he explains, and swallows thickly when the instructor’s eyes lands on him. “Ung Seongwoo helped me all the way! Please accept him into the University!”

 

“My name is Ong,” Seongwoo quietly hisses to Minhyun, temporarily forgetting all the scrutinising eyes he knows is still on them. “How many times are you going to get my name wrong damn it.”

 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Minhyun chants through his clenched teeth.

 

Their instructor then turns around, eyeing the rest of their peers. “Raise your hands if you’ve seen these two helping each other.”

 

When almost the entirety of the assembly raised their hands, the instructor scoffs. “Put your hands down and get on the ground right now,” she commands through gritted teeth. “Right NOW!”

 

Minhyun watches as all of their peers scramble to get into position, equally as confused as them. Seongwoo remains in place, a bead of sweat running down his face from the force of their instructor’s voice. She’s yelled and screamed at them all week but this is the first time Seongwoo can feel actual fury behind her words.

 

“It’s our job as police officers, to help others in need,” she explains, the weight of her words heavy on their shoulders. “But when a classmate was hurt you all neglected him?!” she screams. “Do you think you’re allowed to call yourselves police officers if you only care about yourselves?!”

 

She sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t care if you made it back on time. You’ve all failed. Get up and climb the mountain again.”

 

Seongwoo gasps at this reversal, a little too loudly because Minhyun immediately throws a hand to cover his mouth. Meanwhile, all of their peers get directed back to the mountain to restart their run, some throwing dirty looks at them along the way. Minhyun ignores them, a petty voice inside him agrees that this is justice. He’s brought back to reality when he feels Seongwoo’s giddy smile against his hand, and then he remembers that his palm is still on Seongwoo’s face and he quickly retracts it out of belated embarrassment.

 

“Can you two walk to the infirmary yourselves?” The instructor asks them, voice soft.

 

Seongwoo aggressively nods for them both, and they salute her in unison. She salutes them back with a smirk, and then waves her hand, letting them leave.

 

“Did that just happen?” Seongwoo says, mouth still gaping in awe.

 

“I think so?” Minhyun says, also equally stunned. “Wait does this mean... we passed?”

 

They stop in their tracks to look at each other, letting the realisation and happiness sink in. Seongwoo’s the first to throw his arms around Minhyun, smiling so widely his face might split into two.

 

“We did it! We both made it together!”

 

Minhyun’s once again, taken aback by his random spurt of enthusiasm but he wraps his arms around Seongwoo as well nevertheless, happily laughing into his shoulder.

 

“OW! You idiot! My foot still hurts!” Minhyun yells when Seongwoo jumps into a more aggressive hug that sends him staggering back. Seongwoo immediately pulls away hesitantly, mumbling constant apologies as he carries Minhyun across the field.

 

 

 

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

 

 

 

“So where you’d go for high school?” Seongwoo asks, blinking in succession as he adjusts to the spare pair of glasses he borrowed from the nurse. It’s not quite close to his degree but it’s better than nothing he supposes. It could be worse. He could be like Minhyun, stuck with an ugly wrapping around his smooth white legs.

 

(Seongwoo doesn’t stare, but it’s hard not to be in shock when the nurse pulled up Minhyun’s pants. What kind of guy on this Earth has prettier legs than a model what the fuck?)

 

“Seoul Science High School,” Minhyun replies, still checking up on his bandaged leg to make sure it was wrapped up right.

 

“Oh my god, you really are a nerd,” Seongwoo teases, snickering into his hand.

 

Minhyun raises a brow, unfazed. “And you look like one, I don’t see what the issue is?”

 

“Shut up,” Seongwoo snaps. He’d gotten into so many misunderstandings because everyone always assumed he was super smart and he doesn’t like being reminded of it. “People need to stop associating intelligence with glasses ugh.” Then he glosses over Minhyun’s words once more and realises. “Hold on, if you’re from Seoul Science then shouldn’t you apply to KAIST or something?”

 

There’s a momentary pause, as if Minhyun wasn’t prepared for that question. “That’s boring. I wanted to do something… different.”

 

Seongwoo tilts his head, because it still doesn’t make sense at all for a guy like Minhyun to be in this place. “This is a terrible kind of different though?”

 

“Just drop it,” Minhyun says with finality. And that’s that. “How about you? What's your reason for choosing this place?”

 

“Oh, that’s simple.” Seongwoo grins easily. “I came here cause tuition is free.”

 

Minhyun’s brows are raised again. “Oh, was your parent strapped for money?”

 

“Yeah? I mean it was financially hard for my mother to raise a kid like me in a shitty suburb,” Seongwoo recounts, almost a little too freely, “so I didn’t want to make it any more harder for her.”

 

“What about your dad?” Minhyun inquires further, curious at the gaps and holes Seongwoo left for him to pick at.

 

Seongwoo hums, and then slowly nods in consideration. “He’s around… at the moment.”

 

“You’re pretty honest aren’t you?” Minhyun points out; it’s a simple observation. There’s a twinkle in Seongwoo’s eyes when he spins in his chair to meet Minhyun’s gaze.

 

“Only when I don’t have a reason to lie.”

 

Minhyun chuckles at that. “Weirdo.”

 

“Oh, so _now_ you want to resume this conversation,” Seongwoo grins, teasing and Minhyun responds with a firm shake of his head.

 

“Nope, somehow I think arguing with you is only going to give me a headache.”

 

“It’s smart that you’re acknowledging your inevitable loss,” Seongwoo says, cocky. Minhyun is starting to remember why none of their conversations ever lasted longer than a minute. (Other than the fact that he always walks out before they can properly start one.)

 

“You’re insufferable,” Minhyun concludes, and even then, that doesn’t seem to deter Seongwoo at all.

 

“So? We’re two of a kind.” Seongwoo raises his fist towards the other boy. “Let’s be best friends.”

 

“ _Friends_ ,” Minhyun corrects, bumping the other boy’s fist back with his own. “We’ll be friends. I don’t know if I want to crown you the title of my best friend yet.”

 

This time it’s Seongwoo’s turn to pout. “God you’re an asshole."

 

Minhyun shrugs, smiling despite himself.

 

“We’re two of a kind.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> KAIST = Korea Advanced Institute of Science & Technology
> 
> and if u can't already tell, seongwoo is kijoon/park seojoon and minhyun is heeyeol/kang haneul. i did however, took the liberty of mixing up their roles here and there just to spice it up. considering i'm already copying most of the movie i'm trying my best to make it interesting w e e ps i'll be a better writer someday i promise.
> 
> tags will be updated as i progress through this wheezes. now, i'm aware i have a terrible track record of finishing fics, but mark my words i will finish this. HOW ELSE CAN I SAY FUCK U TO YMC OTHERWISE.


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